


Blood and Alchemy

by OnceAndAlwaysEnglishMajor



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, FullMetal Alchemist - Freeform, Ishvalan!Riza, Royai - Freeform, roy mustang - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:04:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8129765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceAndAlwaysEnglishMajor/pseuds/OnceAndAlwaysEnglishMajor
Summary: Ishvalan Riza Hawkeye impulsively saves an injured Roy Mustang when he is left behind by Amestrian forces, and neither of their lives will ever be the same





	1. On the Fields of Ishbal

**Author's Note:**

> AU inspired by ask-royai-lty on Tumblr.

     Riza flinched as the bullets whizzed overhead. She hunkered behind the ruins of what had once been someone’s home. Now it was only so much rubble, like the land she grew up in, like her people after years of civil war. The fighting moved on, and Riza moved forward, collecting weapons from the dead. A distasteful task, but the Ishvalans needed every advantage they could find. She tried not to look too closely at the Amestrian soldiers as she collected their weaponry. If she did, they became too human, and this unending war threatened to drag her under. And Riza Hawkeye couldn’t afford to hurt that much. She reached for another standard-issue Amestrian rifle. She froze as a hand weakly grasped her wrist. Her red eyes flicked up, meeting the pain dazed brown ones of the Amestrian soldier.  
     “Damn Hughes,” the man muttered, “Damn him and that letter. Going on about girls from home is supposed to get him hurt, not me…” He still held her wrist, but Riza couldn’t tell if he was really seeing her or not. He groaned again, “Hurts. Hurts so bad.” His eyes met hers this time, and Riza couldn’t move.  
     “Hawkeye!” a voice called quietly, “All clear?” The soft crunch of boots on rubble announced the rest of her scavenging unit approaching. Frantically, Riza looked around for some way to conceal the injured Amestrian. The others wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. Riza still wasn’t sure why she did. Grabbing the cloak of another fallen soldier, she threw it over the young soldier as three more Ishvalans rounded the crumbling building.  
     “Hawkeye, are we clear here?” an older man asked.  
     “Yes sir,” Riza replied. I’m almost done here.” The older Ishvalan nodded. “Finish up and fall back. The Amestrians might send in another wave. Or some of those cursed alchemists.”  
     “Yes sir,” Riza replied. The group continued, and Riza turned her focus back to the injured Amestrian.  
     “What am I going to do with you?” Riza mused softly. The man didn’t reply. Impulsively, Riza brushed his unruly, dirt matted hair out of his face. He seemed so young and vulnerable. And in that moment, Riza Hawkeye made her decision. She knelt, pulling his coat off to find his injury. A bullet had grazed his side, and it appeared that he had tried to bandage it himself before passing out from blood loss. Riza replaced the bandage and winced. Moving him wasn’t going to be easy. Kneeling next to him, Riza slid her arms behind his shoulders, levering the young soldier into a sitting position. His eyes fluttered open.  
     “Good,” Riza grunted. “I’m going to need your help if this is going to work.”  
     “You’re an angel, aren’t you? Here to take me to the afterlife. I can live with that. Or die with it, I guess,” the Amestrian rambled. Riza gritted her teeth.  
     “Don’t be stupid. Now, we’re going to stand up.” She surged to her feet, stumbling a bit under the weight of the injured man.  
     “Talk to me, soldier. I need you conscious. What’s your name?” Riza asked.  
     “Mustang.” The soldier swayed, but stayed on his feet. “Roy Mustang.”  
     “Roy Mustang, my name is Riza Hawkeye. I’m… I’m going to get you out of here, I guess. But you have to stay with me. Got that, Mustang?”  
     “Whatever the angel says,” Mustang answered. Riza rolled her eyes. He’d obviously lost a lot of blood. But if believing she was an angel kept him on his feet, she could work with that. Riza reviewed her mental map of the village for somewhere nearby but safe to take Roy. An abandoned but still standing hut served her purpose. She didn’t want to leave Roy alone, but she would be missed if she didn’t check in at the main depot and deliver her weapons. She made him as comfortable as possible before she left.

  
     Riza didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she knelt next to the Amestrian soldier, Roy, and saw his chest rising and falling evenly. He was pale and clammy, but still alive. Riza knew that the first thing she had to do was clean his wound. She’d seen too many people die of infection in this war. Riza started a small fire and set a pot of water over it to boil. Her next problem was getting Roy out of his shirt, or what was left of his shirt, so she could get a proper look at his wound. Nimble finger undid his buttons, and the small knife in her boot neatly slit his sleeves. Pushing the ruined fabric aside, Riza slid her arm under his bare shoulders, lifting him up just enough to pull the remains of the shirt away. Riza did her best to arrange a blanket under Mustang before gently lowering him back down. Riza pulled the water off her little fire, setting it aside to cool to a bearable temperature. She took a moment to study the man she had impulsively decided to rescue. Well-built, he was decently handsome under all the dirt of the battlefield, Riza decided. She gently dabbed at the angry red gouge that decorated Roy’s side. He moaned and tried to shift away from her, but didn’t gain full consciousness. Riza let her mind wander as her hands continued their work. What was she thinking, saving an Amestrian? They were the enemy! They oppressed her people, and now they were bringing in alchemists, causing whole-scale destruction. Yet, looking at the pale, injured man lying in front of her, he didn’t look like the enemy. He looked… young. Human. Just another person, no different than her, really. Hopefully, this wasn’t one of those decisions she would live to regret.


	2. Warm Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza nurses Roy with soup

     Roy woke up in bits and pieces. The sun shone pleasantly on his face, but Roy couldn’t bring himself to actually open his eyes. Then the pain washed over him in waves. The hell happened to him? Low moaning drew him closer to full consciousness, enough that he realized the sounds were coming from him. Not good, Mustang. Gathering his strength, Roy opened his eyes. He lay in a half shelled out Ishvalan building. Roy pushed himself up on his elbows to get a better sense of his surroundings. The light blanket slid down his bare torso. Roy examined the neat bandage covering the left side of his abdomen. Someone knew what they were doing. But how had he gotten here? He remembered the battle, the searing pain of a bullet or shrapnel ripping through his side, and he remembered trying to staunch the wound. Then nothing. Roy frowned. Except what he had taken for feverish delusions of an angel coming to him as he lay in the Ishvalan dirt. Unless this was a really crappy afterlife. Roy shook his head, then winced. Even that hurt. At any rate, visions of loveliness and the contemplation of the afterlife were not going to get him anywhere. He was obviously still alive, so he needed to focus on his next move. Though moving at all seemed to be out of the picture at the moment. Soft footsteps announced someone’s approach, and Roy froze. An Ishvalan girl stepped around the crumbling corner. Still propped up on his elbows, Roy stared at her. The girl stared back for a moment, before the smallest ghost of a smile crossed her face.

     “I didn’t know if you were going to wake up,” she said. “You scared me there for a while.” “How… how long was I out?” Roy asked.

     “A couple days,” the girl answered. She moved closer and placed the back of her cool hand on his forehead. Roy schooled his features to hide his surprise at her touch.

     “Your fever’s broken,” she said, removing her hand. She turned away from Mustang, starting a small fire. “It will just take a couple minutes to warm up, but I brought you something to eat.” She continued to fuss around the small fire, her back to him. Mustang watched her as best he could without shifting and aggravating his injury.

     “Am I a prisoner?” Roy asked.

     “What!” Riza yelped. “You’re not a prisoner,” she said more softly.

     “Then why are you doing this?” Mustang asked. “I… I can’t remember clearly, but I think that you pulled me off the field.” Roy tried to sit up. Riza left her fire and pushed him firmly back down.

     “I’ll help you sit up when the soup is ready. And, yes, I did bring you here.” Riza watched him for a moment, until she was satisfied that he would stay down. Then she turned away from him again. Roy stifled a growl. He was pretty good at reading people, a skill he learned from his aunt, but it wasn’t nearly as effective if he couldn’t see her face. He waited silently as she poured the soup into a bowl and faced him again.

     “Here, let me help you up,” she knelt beside him, her arms strong behind his shoulders as she maneuvered Roy into a sitting position.

     “Thank you,” he said. Then, “But why?” He felt her freeze, then pull the support of her arms away. She sat back on her heels and studied him.

     “Honestly, I don’t know why,” she answered candidly. “I was collecting firearms, and you grabbed my wrist. You were injured, and delusional, muttering about letters and girls from home and… and how much it hurt.”

     “Hughes. Of course,” Mustang grumbled under his breath. Riza shot him a questioning look. “Later,” Roy said, and Riza continued her story.

     “After that, I didn’t have it in me to leave you there to suffer,” she concluded. Roy nodded, and accepted the bowl of soup Riza finally remembered to hand him.

     “Then it seems I owe you a debt of gratitude,” Roy said softly. Riza shrugged and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

     “Please,” Roy said, “Tell me your name.” Riza’s garnet eyes snapped to his face. “You really don’t remember then, do you? It’s Riza Hawkeye.”

     “Riza Hawkeye,” Roy repeated, trying it out.

     “Well, Riza Hawkeye, it appears I owe you my life.” A dusky blush colored her cheeks that Mustang found quite attractive, especially with her Ishvalan coloring.

     “Eat your soup,” she said. Roy complied, with just a hint of a smirk.

     “Tell me about Hughes,” Hawkeye asked. “Maes Hughes is too good of a man to be real,” Mustang said seriously. “I’ve never met such an optimist. I don’t know why he sticks with me.”

     “And what kind of man are you, Roy Mustang?” Riza asked. Roy paused, assessing how to best answer that question.

     “I am an ambitious man, and a driven man,” Roy said finally. “I want to be able to protect those I care about, and I need position to do that.” Trying to shift the focus, Roy asked,

     “What kind of woman are you, then, Riza Hawkeye?” The question should get the focus off him, and he genuinely wanted to know. She contemplated that question for several long moments.

     “The kind of woman who pulls enemy soldiers from the battlefield and nurses him back to health, I guess,” Riza answered finally. They sat in silence as Roy finished his soup and Riza cleaned up the supplies.

     “You’ll come back?” he asked finally.

     “As soon as I can,” answered Riza.


	3. Alchemy and Propositions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza and Roy discuss the past and the future.

                Riza winced as the sounds of fighting washed over her. The state alchemists were moving through the countryside, destroying all in their path. Shuddering, Riza moved away from the noise of the man-made disaster. She needed to check on Roy. He was recovering quickly, though he still needed a lot of tending. Riza didn’t know how she felt about either of those things. Roy sat up carefully as Riza entered the room, a task he could now complete on his own.

            “What’s the racket going on out there?” Roy asked as Riza ducked into the room.

            “Alchemists,” she answered darkly. Roy’s eyebrows shot up.

            “It’s going that well, then?” Roy quipped.

            “Depends on what side you’re on,” Riza growled with more force that strictly necessary. Roy leaned slightly back from her, then his brain caught up with his mouth.

            “Oh, Riza, I didn’t mean it like that.” They sat silently, contemplating the odd situation they found themselves in, not quite enemies, not quite friends. Roy leaned over and started sketching in the dirt. Hawkeye reminded herself to take deep breaths as a transmutation circle took shape under his fingers. A small flash, and Roy handed her a roughly formed rose.

            “I never got any formal training,” Mustang told her. “I was raised by my aunt, and never found a good teacher…” he trailed off, not sure where else to go.

            “My father was an alchemist,” Riza said. “Though alchemy in Ishval tends to be more theory, and we’re not so…” she considered and discarded several words before settling on, “organized.” Roy winced, hearing what she didn’t say.

            “My father’s alchemy… it was something new. Something different. Flame alchemy. But it consumed him, like the flames he created.” Sadness colored her voice, and Roy guessed there was more to the story than she wanted to share. Mustang wanted to know more, but he also knew he couldn’t push the topic. Not now. Maybe not ever. Though life when he recovered was a fuzzy prospect. Like another dimension that didn’t quite exist right now. His life right now was just hiding, healing, and Riza. It was almost… nice. But Roy knew it wouldn’t stay like this forever. It couldn’t. Mustang’s ambitions wouldn’t allow the status quo. And this war… something needed to be done about this war. Hughes would tell him that his ambition was outstripping his abilities, but Hughes would be right behind him, all the time. But Hughes wasn’t here. Hell, Roy didn’t even know if Hughes was still alive. He shook his head, chasing that terrifying thought away. Coming back to the present, Roy touched Riza’s hand gently.

            “I’m sorry, Riza. Sorry for what you’ve lost, sorry for what my country has done to you, to your people.”

            She shrugged, but didn’t pull away from his touch. Roy tried not to feel too encouraged. This wasn’t really his life. That depressing thought soured his mood. Riza noticed. She pulled her hand out from under his, nervously tucking a strand of short white hair behind her ear.

            “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up alchemy. The war isn’t a good topic for either of us,” she said, partially misreading his change of mood. She shifted slightly away from Mustang.

            “No,” he said firmly. “It’s not that. It’s trying to figure out what I do next. I can’t let things go on like they have been. I’ve told you I’m driven, that I’m ambitious, and those wheels are turning, even as I recover. Being here, on the front lines, in this war we shouldn’t be fighting, just throws fuel on that flame. The military is still my path, though. The military holds the power in Amestris, and that power is the only way I can see to change things,” Roy said passionately.

            “You can’t change the world alone, you know,” Riza said softly. Roy ran a hand over his face.

            “I know. I know that. I need people. Hughes will stand by me, and there are a couple others I want to talk to…” Roy trailed off, a new idea forming. “Come with me, Riza. Back to Amestris. Help me change the world.”

            “What?” Riza stared at him, garnet eyes wide. “You want me,” she jerked a thumb toward her chest, “to come with you to Amestris? It’s not the friendliest place for people like me at the moment,” she said caustically.

            “I realize that,” Roy said, “and I don’t underestimate the difficulties. But you are a very capable woman, Riza Hawkeye, and I would be honored to have you by my side. For your people, too,” Roy said earnestly.

            “I can’t undo the damage that’s been done, hell, I don’t know if we can even come close in this lifetime, but, damn it, I can try to make a dent.” Roy took a deep breath, calming himself down.

            “Don’t answer me now, Riza. Take some time and think about it. But do us both a favor, and really think about it,” he asked seriously. Riza nodded, face solemn.

            “I will, Roy, I will.”


	4. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza has a decision to make

            Riza moved carefully through the burnt-out shell that used to be a bustling Ishvalan town, though her mind wasn’t really on her surroundings. It was on Roy, Roy and his crazy proposition. That she come with him. And what? Change the world? How did he really plan to do that? And why was she legitimately considering it? Because she had nothing left to keep her in Ishval. If she was brutally honest, she wanted the world to change, wanted to change the world. And deep down, she believed Roy could actually do it. His passion was contagious. But the idiot would get himself killed if he didn’t have someone to watch his back. Did she really want the job, though? Riza sucked a breath in through her teeth. Could she do it? Leave everything she’d ever known? Was she really considering this? It was crazy! Roy was crazy. What was he thinking, asking her to go with him? Her? An _Ishvalan._ In greater Amestris? It didn’t make any sense! But then, had anything made sense since she pulled Mustang off the field? Riza pushed the flap of her tent open, resisting the urge to flop onto her sleeping pallet and just be done for the day. She had preparations to make.

            Roy waited anxiously for Riza’s return. Though Mustang continuously told himself that he wasn’t concerned at all. What Riza Hawkeye did or didn’t do wouldn’t change his plans. But he couldn’t help thinking that his task would be easier with the Ishvalan woman by his side. Roy let his mind wander as he waited. He probably shouldn’t trust Hawkeye, but he did. And Roy Mustang didn’t do anything without a reason. But Riza had proven herself trust worthy again and again. She had him completely helpless, an Amestrian who should be her enemy, but instead of turning him in, or using his injury to benefit herself in some way, Riza took care of him. She fussed over blankets and whether he’d eaten all his soup. And with his life in her hands, she trusted him with her past, piece by piece. If she would come, Roy couldn’t help thinking his plans would be stronger for it. If Riza Hawkeye had his back, Mustang was pretty sure he could face the world.

            “Roy?” Riza called softly, more to announce her presence than find him, though Roy could move almost independently now.

            “Here,” Mustang called out. He had moved from one room to the other, stretching his unused legs, trying to regain his strength after being bedridden. She came around the corner and smiled to see him on his feet.

            “You’re doing better every day,” she said happily.

            “Getting there,” Roy grunted. She didn’t argue with him, just began her usual routine of unpacking and preparing the food she had brought.

            “Yes,” she said abruptly.

            “What?” Roy’s head jerked up. Riza took a long, deep breath.

            “Yes, I will come with you, back to Amestris, land of my enemies.” She let a small smile grace her lips. “I believe in your dream, Roy Mustang, but someone has to have your back. You’re far too careless of your own life.”

            “Hey!” Roy protested, though he knew Riza was right. But she hadn’t known him long enough to make that assessment! Riza smirked slightly, turning Roy’s trademark expression around on him.

            “Those are my reasons, take them or leave them,” she said.

            “Doesn’t matter if I agree with them, I’ll take them,” Roy said.

            “Now, getting back to Amestris is going to take some very careful planning…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little shorter this time, and pretty heavy on the introspection, but more is coming!


	5. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza's thoughts on leaving Ishvalan territory.

     “Are we headed for East City, Roy?” Riza asked. She glanced sideways at Mustang in the starlight. They had pitched their tent in an abandoned section of the Ishvalan countryside, and decided to forgo a fire for concealment. Roy stared out at the landscape, arms resting on his bent knees.

            “Yes, I think that will be best. Though I imagine we’ll run into some company of Amestrian soldiers before then.”

            “Have we settled on a good story yet?” Riza asked. Roy grimaced.

            “As close to the truth as we can safely get,” he answered. “You do realize that this will probably end with you joining up, and that’s if we’re incredibly lucky.” He waited, not quite holding his breath, to see if Riza would take the out. They weren’t out of Ishvalan territory yet, and she could easily leave and rejoin her people. But Hawkeye just shook her head.

            “I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to come with you. Change has to start somewhere, and if that’s will me enlisting in the Amestrian military, then so be it. I _am_ technically still an Amestrian citizen.” Her tone was light, but Mustang sensed a layer of pain beneath. He ached to comfort her, but didn’t know how. So he suppressed the instinct, instead focusing his feelings of impotency on the government that had started this infernal war. That had taken the last of his innocence at the tender age of twenty-three. And Riza had to be even younger than he.

            “You know, I joined the military to protect people. I thought I could do some good here,” Roy said. “I know you’re set on this course, but you must know very clearly why.”  Riza bumped his shoulder gently with hers in the darkness.

            “You know my reasons,” she said simply. Roy nodded and let the matter drop.

 

             They moved carefully through the countryside, both on high alert. On the very edge of Ishvalan territory, anyone they met was likely to be an enemy of one or the other of them. It would be easier to answer questions once they reached East City and met Roy’s contacts. Riza wondered if should would ever feel safe. Then again, ‘safe’ wasn’t something she had felt in a very long time. War would do that to a child. That, and the loss of her mother, and her father’s unhealthy obsession with flame alchemy…

            “Riza? Are you doing all right?” Roy glanced over at his companion, concern written on his face.

            “Oh! I’m fine, I was just thinking…” Riza shook her head to chase the gloomy thoughts away. The past wouldn’t change, but with enough effort, the future could. “This is farther than I’ve ever traveled before,” she told Mustang. Roy started regaling her with all the stories of places he’d traveled, and Riza smiled softly. Moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short again, but I'm very excited to get to the next part of the story! We'll meet some more familiar characters!


	6. East City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza meets General Grumman, and wheels are set in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short again, longer chapters coming, I promise! And next chapter we're adding Miles to the mix!

Riza’s eyes flashed from the buildings, to the bustling crowds, to the traffic, to Mustang’s back right in front of her. East City throbbed with life. Roy led the way confidently, an extra swagger in his step. He knew where he was going, and wore confidence like a coat. The East City military headquarters were located in an imposing square building. Roy sauntered in as if he owned the place. He flashed the secretary a devilish smile. The woman flushed slightly.

            “Could you tell General Grumman that Roy Mustang is here to see him?”

            “Of course, sir!” She scurried off to alert the General. Mustang clasped his hands behind his back as he waited, looking for all the world like he was perfectly at ease. But Riza suspected Roy wasn’t as calm as he was playing. She schooled her face into a calm mask, as if this wasn’t all new and strange to her. The secretary returned a few minutes later.

            “The general will see you immediately, sir.” She turned crisply on her kitten heels, and led the way through a maze of offices. Riza tried to soak in everything, observe every detail. Roy entered the office first, throwing Grumman a sharp salute. Riza stopped a little behind him, not sure what she was supposed to do. But the general didn’t seem to be paying attention to her any way.

            “Roy Mustang! I thought we’d lost you!” The heavily mustached man said cheerfully, coming around the desk to clasp Roy on the shoulder. “Thought all that work I put into training you had gone down the drain.”

            “Of course not, sir. That would be highly ungrateful,” Roy said, equally cheerful. “But, sir, if I could bring up a slightly more pressing matter than your investment in me…” Roy stepped to the side and gently tugged Riza forward. “This is Ms. Hawkeye. She is primarily the reason all your hard work didn’t die in Ishval.”

            Riza held herself perfectly still and met the general’s eyes as he sized her up, even though she squirmed internally.

            “It’s a delicate situation…” Roy began, but Grumman cut him off.

            “Mustang, of course I can get my own _granddaughter_ into the academy. Getting through however, she will have to do on her own.” He stared into Riza’s eyes, making sure she got the point. Riza lifted her chin slightly.

            “I understand you perfectly, _Grandfather._ I’ll do you proud,” she answered. The general seemed satisfied, and smiled broadly.

            “I think that covers our business for today. Mustang, you’re to report for duty first thing tomorrow morning. You and Ms. Hawkeye will be my guests for the night, and Ms. Hawkeye will stay with me until the paperwork for her entrance to the academy has been processed. I will see you both tonight for supper at 7pm sharp. Dismissed.”

            Roy saluted sharply, while Riza settled for a deep nod. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her life was about to get seriously interesting.


	7. Ace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs an ace in the hole.

  
     The end of the war came just after Riza’s graduation. Grumman had pulled some strings to get her assigned to Roy Mustang, who had been promoted to Colonel while she was in the academy. Grumman also set her up with a small flat, which was set up to come out of her paycheck, of course.   
     Riza could hear the cheering as she locked herself into the little flat. So many of her people dead, and for what? What good did it do? What good could she do here? Was there still a point to all this? A knock sounded at the door. Riza ignored it. There was no one she wanted to see right now, not even Miles, the other Ishvalan who had been in the academy with her. The banging continued, until Riza threw the door open in frustration. Roy froze hand still raised to continue pounding on the door. Riza considered slamming the door in his face. Instead, she stepped aside, allowing him in. Roy stood awkwardly, not sure what to do now that he made it inside. Riza locked the door and collapsed onto the couch burying her head in her hands. Roy shuffled uncertainly. He wanted to comfort her. Really he did. But all he knew about comforting involved careful soft touches. And he didn’t know how Riza, er, Private Hawkeye, he reminded himself, would take that. A low, broken, moan escaped from behind Riza’s shielding hands. Roy moved without any further thought. He settled carefully onto the couch next to Riza. Moving slowly, cautiously, he slid an arm around her shoulders. Riza shuddered, but didn’t pull away.   
     “Just say the word and I’ll stop,” Roy muttered into Riza’s hair.  
     “Don’t. Stop,” Riza choked out. Roy traced careful circles on her back, drawing the shuddering woman to his chest. He didn’t tell her that it would be ok. He just held her, letting her tears soak into his shirt. The lines between superior and subordinate blurred. Roy worried for a moment what they were getting into, how dangerous this could be. But nothing would ever be simple between him and Riza. He rubbed her back, stroked her hair, did his best to give Riza his strength through the simple touches. Roy didn’t know how much time passed before Riza pushed away from him. She still trembled slightly as she stood in front of Roy.   
     “We’re changing this,” she said, quiet but forceful. She started to unbutton her shirt. Roy panicked.  
     “N-n-n-no! Whatever you’re thinking, Private, Hawkeye, Riza, stop! Don’t don’t do anything you’d regret,” he pleaded. Riza pinned him to the couch with a glare. She turned, her back toward Roy, and finished unbuttoning her shirt. Roy couldn’t stifle his gasp as Riza let the shirt slide down her shoulders. Her back was a horror-scape of ink and angry burn scars.   
     “What… What..?” Roy tried to ask, but he couldn’t seem to form words.   
     “It is… Was the secrets to flame alchemy,” Riza said, voice flat. “My father… Needed a safe place for his notes. Before he decided they were too dangerous.” Her voice still held no emotion. Roy barely kept his emotions in check as he continued to stare at her ruined back.   
     “I want you to figure it out,” Riza said.  
     “What?!”   
     “I know you don’t have any formal alchemical training, but you’re clever. Far cleverer than you let on. If… If anyone can figure this out, it’s you. And if we’re really going to change things,” she turned to face him, shirt buttoned once more, “If you really meant what you said in Ishval, you’re going to need an ace in the hole. I’m you’re ace.” 


End file.
